I am Vivica, a two-year-old boy cat. When I was rescued, there were no lumps and bumps “down there” to suggest that I may not be female. By the time our Vet  gently lifted my tail and announced: “It’s a boy!” I had grown quite fond of the name, especially as it was associated with not needing to act like a hoover machine around food.

I tried to sabotage my life’s potential in my rescue. I escaped an abusive situation and arrived with my brother at my Mommy’s workplace, where her colleagues were just horrible to me. She decided to take me home with my brother, and was stupid enough to try to put me in a paper box to bring home – and she has the scars to prove it. However, I met my match when she hatched a professional cat carrier on me, and I was safely transported into the unknown. After that terror, I settled into a secure loving home and thrived. It was good to look back and reflect with gratitude on all that I could have missed out on.